


Imprisoned Bystander

by StormWildcat



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Canonical Character Death, Dungeons & Dragons Campaign, Kidnapping, Murder, Reimagining of infamous episode 26, Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27611152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StormWildcat/pseuds/StormWildcat
Summary: The fight was lost from the start. Any escalation turned it from bad to worse. There was nothing the kidnapped members of the Mighty Nein could do but watch as one of their friends was murdered in cold blood.
Kudos: 8





	Imprisoned Bystander

**Author's Note:**

> I was apparently feeling particularly angsty one day and decided to reimagine what the infamous death moment in episode 26 of Critical Role would be like if the imprisoned members could actually spectate the fight all the way thru to the deadly results. I know how it's handled in canon but I thought it'd be interesting to explore how it would be from an outside and helpless POV. Also cuz ANGST.
> 
> For anyone who is just starting Critical Role THIS IS NOT THE FANFICTION FOR YOU! I would recommend you come back after you see enough eps to avoid spoilers. However if you have seen them or don't care about spoilers, read on!

Have you ever had to watch a friend die? Not from illness or old age. Nothing as potentially expected or oddly comforting as that where you see them put to rest. More like a death that makes it feel like they were stolen from you. More like...murdered. Have you ever had to witness their life being snuffed out? Watch, helpless, as that light in their eyes darkened and know in that instant you’ll never see them again. Hear their voice. Laugh with them. Make new memories with them. Nothing...ever again. 

This is an experience Fjord wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy. Yet he had been forced to live in one of the most debilitating and awful scenarios he could ever conceive. Kidnapped, bound and locked away in a metal cage, he watched in horror as the remaining members of the Mighty Nein attempted to ambush his captors. Experience with the tactics and abilities of both groups had luck’s favor on the enemy’s side by quite a bit. Though for a few fleeting moments the scales seemed to tip in the name of the Mighty Nein, Fjord’s stomach dropped when high level magic burst forth from the Iron Shepard leader. Fear froze his chest as the tides turned and crashed onto his comrades. 

“Run, dammit, run! Regroup!” he screamed in his head. Had he the ability, the group’s leader would have roared the order to the others that looked to him for guidance. But he knew he could try until his throat bled and it would do them no good. No sound escaped the cursed wagon he was trapped on with Jester and Yasha. Between their gags and whatever magic was placed on the vicinity, their yelling was as good for alerting the others as a still pond on a windless day. No one could hear them. No one could see their horrified expressions. All they could do was watch, tied up and locked away, clinging to any shred of hope that the others would survive the deadly encounter.

Then it happened.

Lit ablaze by Beau’s tinderbox, the enemy leader Lorenzo stood over one of their own, brimming with malicious intent. It was a sight that made the hair on the back of Fjord’s neck stand on end. He could feel his cage rock as their barbarian threw her weight into her own set of metal bars. In this moment he dared not turn away to watch Yasha. His yellow eyes, pupils the size of pinpricks, stayed trained on the prone but still rebellious form in the grass.

Fire light flashed off the metal of a glaive.

Crimson spray stained lavender skin.

Time stood still as the executioner’s weapon readied. 

Fjord’s heart stopped.

Then so did Mollymauk’s.

All of the determination and energy drained from ruby eyes that never closed. Those same eyes that had held so much love for life and their little ragtag group lost that mischievous sparkle. Instead they stared, lifeless, right at Fjord. It was as if in his last moments, the tiefling knew where the half-orc was being held prisoner and wanted to meet his gaze one last time. Molly’s final haunting stare, the blood stains on his favorite coat, the maddening, illogical quiet that muffled his ears, every detail of the murder scene burned itself in Fjord’s brain. Deep into his consciousness it seared a dark crevice of sorrow and anguish where he could never forget it.

In the cage next to him, Jester’s body convulsed with what looked to be heavy sobs that were silenced by whatever arcane force was placed on the cart. Mournful wails of rage were lost to nothingness on his other side. Yasha’s tears further streaked her makeup; she was shaking. Or was he? Realization of the catastrophe settled in fully and crushed his heart. Molly’s body blurred as tears blinded Fjord.

“No..no! MOLLY!” His cries were never heard. Spiteful magic kept them all deafeningly silent. Even as he kept screaming against the cloth tucked between his teeth and smashed his forehead into the metal cage bars, no one heard. Heartbreak set in. The tears were endless. Blood stained his armor and his throat tore from pain-ridden efforts made in vain. As their cart was urged along by the victorious Shepards, he never stopped screaming, never stopped struggling, even as Molly disappeared from his sight.


End file.
